


Scourge of Hydra

by BrainspaceVsMeatspace (Sooper)



Category: Scourge of the Underworld
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4408238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sooper/pseuds/BrainspaceVsMeatspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vigilante is assassinating the remnants of Hydra one at a time.  But why?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Whiplash

“Next stop, Foggy Bottom, George Warshington University, this is the first stop in Warshington, DC,” the train operator intones with disinterest. A lot of people seem to gain this detachment after they’d been through DC enough times. Probably even quicker if part of your job is just going in and out of town several times a day, all while never leaving the tiny box you sat in.

I'm getting there, myself. So bored I start reading the phone of the woman in front of me having a furious war of words via text message. Seems her boyfriend had been seeing other women and she found out. His name at the top of the screen reads “Randy Johnson”. I'm trying to decide whether that's actually his very unfortunate yet prescient name, or if she had just renamed his contact to that after finding out about his infidelity, when the metro train pulls in to Foggy Bottom, where I need to get off.

I step out of the train, up the escalator, and walk through the turnstile, passing an advert for the Spy Museum sandwiched between two dueling poster ads for Israel and Palestine.

I continue on, heading up to street level and turning to walk west toward Georgetown. This time of evening the sidewalk is full of commuters, shoppers, and joggers, just as I’d planned. Don’t want anyone to notice me before I get to my destination, but I want plenty of notice in the aftermath.

It's easy to avoid notice of anyone once I pull out an empty coffee cup and a generic “homeless, please help” sign. Nobody makes eye contact in these large cities, even with a normal person. They actively avoid it in the case of the homeless.

I wait by the Starbucks on M street for a good fifteen minutes waiting for my target. He finally emerges from the trendy burger joint next door, flanked with other business people. I wonder if they know he's a Hydra plant, not that it will matter shortly.

I stagger forward, mumbling. “I don’t have any change, buddy,” he says.

I mumble a bit louder, “juss isserv”, getting right in his face.

Exasperated, he spits out, “Get the hell off me.” When he tries to shove me, I move without effort, pulling a small handgun from my coat pocket, pushing the barrel into his chest. I pull the trigger three times. I hate these smaller weapons, but they're so much easier to conceal. Everyone scatters at the sound of gunfire, leaving him alone with me, finally looking me in the eyes for the first time.

He croaks out a feeble, “Why," blood starting to dribble from his lips.

I bring the gun to his forehead, look at him with cold eyes as he returns my gaze with horror and disbelief, and answer him by yelling out, “Justice is served!” And complete my mission.


	2. Escape

Extraction doesn't get stressed nearly enough when you're training to be a covert assassin. Probably because what they stress instead is “how to not blow your cover, so you won't need an emergency extraction, dumbass.” Yeah, well, my assignments all end with intentionally blowing my cover these days, so that isn't an option.

The remnants of Hydra need to know they're being hunted. They need to know they're going to die, they need to be afraid. And it's my job to make it happen.

But, it does make the end of a mission slightly complicated. Like right now, when I’m running from two armed bodyguards whose employer is now missing most of his face, compliments of the handgun in my right coat pocket. I'd plug them like their boss, but I have strict instructions, only kill the target. I don't kill people without an order.

They've been chasing me three blocks when I vault into traffic and cross the street, into a residential area, hoping to shake them. It almost works, one of them actually stops running, but then I hear a pop and feel something smack me in the back like a left kidney punch. I stagger a bit, knowing one of these assholes just shot me. The Kevlar stops it, but I feel like my entire lower back is on fire. I keep running. Ok, more like I hobble as fast as I can. Not fast enough.

He tackles me from behind, ramming me, with his full weight, into a tree. I'm pinned down now, I do not have time for this, even with late rush hour traffic the cops will show up soon, just from the gunfire. I blew a congressman’s head off, so feds won't be far behind. I need to be gone by then.

I swing my head back, connecting with this rent a cop’s skull. I see stars, but judging from his yep of pain, so did he. He doesn't let go, so I do it again. This time his grip loosens just enough that I can slip away. I turn to look at him, probably broke his nose, judging from the blood dripping down his face onto his white shirt, but he's up and looks ready for round two. So I pull out my gun and point it at his head.

He's clearly not paid well enough that he wants a bullet in the face, as he backs off, arms raised. I step backward, all the way to the corner. But I can see the look in his eyes. He wants to charge after me, and I can't have that. I aim, and pull the trigger, taking out his kneecap, before spinning around to turn the corner, just a few blocks from safety.

There are sirens in the distance, sound like they're coming closer. I'm running as fast as I can for the bridge out of Georgetown, but it's suddenly getting hard to breathe. Think I broke a rib when he ran me into that tree, bruised at the very least.

I walk out onto the sidewalk, steps away from the bridge, and try to act drunk and disoriented. Not hard to fake, I can't breathe, my back hurts from the gunshot, and I probably have a concussion from the headbutt. I head down a few blocks, walk into the Trader Joes, slip into the back room, and take the elevator down to home base, where I can swallow a few aspirin and pass the hell out while I wait for the doctor.


End file.
